


Together

by lesbianneptune



Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII Series
Genre: F/F, Pre-Series, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:10:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4028068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianneptune/pseuds/lesbianneptune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They could always try to tear them apart, but in the end they'd never manage to. Written with the prompt "please don't argue."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together

Vanille rounded the corner of the orphanage, bitten nails scratching at one arm nervously. It had been little more than a week since she and Fang had been separated and she could feel the fear seeping into her bones with every waking moment. Sleep hadn’t come for many nights now and the charade of fake smiles and polite conversation that had haunted her conscience for what felt like centuries was becoming all too difficult to keep up, the mask dismantling in the face of despair. She still saw her sometimes - whilst they could put them in separate rooms, classes, groups, they could never truly stop them from scanning the crowds of rowdy children for the other, desperately searching for familiarity amongst the monotone of youthful faces. 

Fang had given up on politeness roughly two minutes after arriving at her new dormitory, tearing down the curtains in a rage so typical of her that Vanille couldn’t help but smile as an acquaintance had relayed the news. Still, behaving as she did was dangerous (not that Fang had ever cared, of course - Fang would have run headfirst into a pack of behemoths if it meant getting her own way) and nothing the matrons ever did seemed to make her understand this. A behemoth could be skewered with a spear if one trained hard enough, but those that governed their lives could never truly be defeated, not when it came to the orphans of the war, the forgotten leftovers of a thousand slaughtered citizens. 

In the distance, she could hear Fang’s familiar shout, accompanied by the frenzied chanting of several classmates. 

“I’m telling you. I’m gonna leave this place an’ there’s nothing any of you can do to stop me! Just fuckin’ try!”

Vanille’s heart skipped a beat. So many times they had spoken of leaving, of sneaking away in the night and finding their lost clans, stealing chocobos from the local ranch and escaping the confines of their daily lives, but somehow, it had never happened. One way or another, they’d been rounded up in an onslaught of routine and practices and worship, Fang becoming increasingly impatient as the years wore on. Everything had come to a head one night, when she’d got into a fist fight with a boy that had dared to challenge her dedication to her cause, claiming her to be the “fakest Yun he’d ever come across.” 

The boy had left with a broken nose and Fang with a weeks worth of detentions, removal of all free time and a promise that her influence over one Oerba Dia Vanille would cease, effective immediately. Vanille had returned to their room that night to find Fang gone, nothing but the scattered sheets of their shared bed to remind her of the fight she had put up.

And amongst all this, Vanille could do nothing, stuck in the rut of her own cowardice. 

But not this time. If Fang continued as she was, she’d be sent away for good, transferred across Pulse to another facility and Vanille would never see her other half again. Rage burned deep within Vanille’s chest as she imagined Fang alone again, completely and utterly out of her reach, out of her comfort. So many pictured Fang as Vanille’s eternal protector, a shield from the bullies, the storm that followed the calm. But Vanille knew, in the tears she had watched Fang shed late at night, in the screams of her nightmares, in the piercing ache of her memories as they tumbled blindly from Fang’s lips, that Fang would not survive alone. Not again.

Gathering her strength, she pushed past the crowd that had gathered, instantly spotting Fang in the centre. Her hair was even messier than usual, stuck up at odd ends, her eyes shooting sharp glares at anybody that dared to meet them. Her stance was that of a fighter, as though she could rip apart an entire institution with her bare hands.

“Ah, look, Miss Yun. It’s your dear little friend,” the matron said and Fang moved quicker than Vanille had ever seen her, arms falling to her sides as she turned, her voice softening, her eyes gentle.

“Vanille.”

Her voice was little more than a whisper as Vanille laid a hand on her shoulder.

“You know, I’m not supposed to let you two be together. I should be shifting this one off to another yard right this instance,” the matron said warningly. But there was caution in her eyes, as though she knew Fang would snap at any moment, as though she actually feared that happening.

“I know and she’s sorry. We’re sorry. It won’t happen again. If you’ll just let me talk to her-”

“I’m not fucking sorry at all!” Fang snarled.

“Your so-called calming influence does not appear to be working on Miss Yun,” the matron said.

“Please, Fang,” Vanille whispered, “Please, don’t fight. Please, don’t argue. Please. For me? If they take you away, I might never see you again. I couldn’t bare that.”

Fang grunted and Vanille could feel her calm slightly, her eyes downcast, refusing to meet hers.

“Fine.”

“Very good, Miss Dia,” the matron sounded bored as she surveyed the pair, “Now, both of you. Go your separate ways. I expect this yard to be cleared within two minutes.”

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” Vanille murmured in Fang’s ear, stroking a calming hand down her back, “I’ll sort this out. You don’t have to fight them. I’ll find a way, I will! And we’ll be together and we’ll be happy and we’ll never have to battle with anybody again. Just you and me. And maybe some sheep.”

Three days later, the call came from Anima for two new L’cie.


End file.
